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He was standing leaning against the door frame now he stood up straight. How should I have kissed you? Is there an other way you like it?

Cassandra Clare

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Cassandra Clare
Age: 51
Born: 1973
Born: July 31
Author
Film Producer
Journalist
Novelist
Screenwriter
Writer
Teheran
Judith Rumelt
Door
Standing
Doors
Way
Leaning
Like
Kissed
Frame
Stood
Straight

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The best lies are based on the truth, at least in part
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For free will is what makes us Heaven's creatures.
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I could give you a thiught sheath to put that in,Isabelle offered. I got tons. CERTAINLY NOT, said Simon. Clary shot him an irritated look. Thanks, but I'm not really a thigh sheath kind of girl, -pg. 214
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Hail and Farewell, my brother.
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A sarcastic blond genie with a bad attitude. -Clary, pg.243-
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The light that burned twice as bright burned half as long.
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So John took out of his pocket A knife both long and sharp, And stuck it through his brother's heart, And the blood came pouring down. Says John to William, Take off thy shirt, And tear it from gore to gore, And wrap it round your bleeding heart, And the blood will pour no more.
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Clary: He wanted me to come with him. To join him and Sebastain. I guess he wants their evil little duo to be a little evil trio. She shrugged. Maybe he's lonely. Sebastian cant be the greatest company. Magnus: we don't know that. He could be absolutely fantastic at Scrabble.
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You must behave as if return is certain, not a matter of chance, Jem said.
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Oh, the universe had outdone herself. The universe would be send flowers.
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If you don’t go after Luke,” Clary said, enunciating very clearly, “I, personally, will kill you.” For a moment Jocelyn looked astonished. Then she smiled. “Well,” she said, “if you put it like that.
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You point your feet out too much when you walk,” Will went on. He was busy polishing an apple on his shirtfront, and appeared not to notice Tessa glaring at him. “Camille walks delicately. Like a faun in the woods. Not like a duck” “I do not walk like a duck.” “I like ducks,” Jem observed diplomatically. “Especially the ones in Hyde Park.
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So, technically, Simon said, even though Jace isn't actually related to you, you have kissed your brother.
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He leaned against the door frame, ignoring the kick of adrenaline the sight of her produced. He wondered why, not for the first time. Isabelle used her beauty like she used her whip, but Clary didn't know she was beautiful at all. Maybe that was why.
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Her throat ached: adoration, heartbreak, in equal measure. “Kiss me,” she said. “Please.
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The sensation of falling was the worst part.
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Please don’t do this—don’t do this to me. If anything happened to you—” He looked at her with surprise. There was already a red stain on the white bandages that wrapped his chest, where his movements had pulled his wound open. “I…” “What?” “I’m not used to you loving me,” he said.
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I was looking for Simon. Jordan squinted at her. It's two in the morning. She shrugged. He's a vampire. But I'm not.
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We came to see Jace. Is he alright? I don't know, Magnus said. Does he normally just lie on the floor like that without moving?
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I like in books when we start the book and you really don't know how it's going to turn out.
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